Spiderman Noir gives me the vibe of someone who has a lot of facial scars, and from other ppl’s fanart I know it’s actually a common headcanon- but I couldn’t put my finger on WHY until I remembered this scene:
He wears fucking glass goggles of COURSE his face has been brutally sliced up at least once
THAT WOUND. THAT VILE WOUND. it throbs in time with your speeding heart, and the ache it carries through your veins is oppressive, its hot, it tangles around your jaw and through your spine and behind your eyes. there are needles, sprouting from the lacerations like the most heinous ivy, and it strangles your lungs, rips tears from your eyes, lures bile to your throat. it hurts. oh god it hurts. you cant think, you cant breathe, you cant swallow, you cant see. you cant see. you cant see.
you cannot see but you know when your eyes are closed, because there are colors stained upon the backs of your eyelids. they form images of loved ones, of viscera, of bile and blood and blackened mud. its jarring, they make anxiety spike outwards, frantic ferro fluid, frightened from faces too scared, too pained, too dead, too piercing with eyes staring straight at you, straight at you.
actually, you cant tell when your eyes are open.
I am agog at how very badly I hurt myself on Monday, without actually breaking or spraining anything. Mostly I have been 1) squinting at tumblr; 2) sleeping under piles of ice packs. My black eye (lid; eye is fine) is still hugely swollen, I still have patches of gauze taped to the left side of my face, a bandaid on my chin, big patch bandaids on my forearms and shins—
See, what apparently happened was, I slipped on, and fell down five steps onto a pile of, these motherfuckers:
Liquidambar, American storax, the sweetgum tree. We call the seedpod bullshit it drops “gumballs” around here. They are neither sweet nor gum. They are medieval flails for squirrels. I have stabby little imprints in unexpected places. My face got dragged across a few of them; that’s why I have a goddamn Phantom of the Opera mask made of gauze. I got my ass beat by a pile of seeds and, honestly, it’s humiliating.
So, the bandages are for the tree weapons. The ice packs are for what happens when you take a header off steep deck steps and land, literally, in the literal sense of literally, on your face. The left side, specifically. But my shins and one knee got beat to hell on something too. Not sure what. The edges of the steps themselves? A werewolf scratched up my right arm, not sure what happened there. Oh, also my glasses broke. But whatever, I can’t fit anything on my stay-puft face right now anyway. I can cry over that when the swelling goes down.
You may know that I fall a lot. I don’t know if it’s my fate or what. One particularly bad fall eventually led to a herniated disc and spinal surgery, so I tend to panic when I fall anyway. Much like a car accident, I have no idea what the future repercussions of landing in a heap on hard concrete might be. But what astonishes me is that I hurt myself this badly while hardly hurting myself at all. I’m in a lot of low-grade pain and I’m limping, but nothing’s broken! I didn’t hit my head, didn’t break my nose, didn’t [list of painful potentialities, I will spare you], didn’t even really damage my hands or knees, and didn’t hurt my back at all, not in any immediate way. It’s all flesh wounds that hurt like FUCK, and I don’t understand why this happened to me right now, cosmically, but I’m pretty sure there was a guardian angel yelling “AH, SHIT!” from beneath me sometime around 4:30 on Monday afternoon.
Felt like I hadn’t drawn the clown in a while sooo have some more selfship-! ✨ Continuing with the rabbit behaviours, apparently, rabbits will aggressively grind their faces and chins into surfaces and objects that they believe to be theirs